


The Next Step

by Nikolaus_Chaser



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Cas, Bottom!Cas, Destiel NSFW, Grooming, M/M, Top Dean, Wing Kink, destiel smut, top!dean, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6904729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikolaus_Chaser/pseuds/Nikolaus_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's wings need grooming, but he thinks that Dean is not ready to take such a big step in their relationship and share such an intimate experience.  He tries to groom them himself, but when he fails and Dean comes to his rescue, he discovers that DEan may not be the only one who is scared of taking that next step.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Step

At first, it starts out with nothing more than a mild prickle; an ache in his back that he can disregard with a roll of his shoulders or a crack of his back.  He tries his best to ignore it, because that’s the convenient thing to do, and for the better part of a month it works.  He lives with the dull, throbbing ache in his back, and he doesn’t say anything.  There would be no use in his complaints anyway; neither Sam nor Dean can help him groom his wings anyway, and there’s no point in worrying them over him.  He can take care of himself.

Besides, things between him and Dean are finally starting to come together, and he doesn’t want to disturb the pseudo-routine that they have fallen into.  He knows that Dean is still coming into himself (or rather, coming _out_ to himself) and their relationship.  Dean only just became comfortable with kissing him in front of Sam, and that took nearly three months for the two of them to work up to.   Cas doesn’t want to pressure him into anything that he isn’t ready for, and asking Dean to help him with something as intimate as _grooming his wings_ is not something that Cas considers a plausible recourse.

“You want to go get a burger with me?” Dean’s voice echoes in Cas’s ears and he looks up, blinking at the hunter and offering him a weak smile.  He’s not entirely sure what Dean said to him, too focused on the pain in his shoulders and wings- _By God,_ do his wings hurt- to really pay attention to anything else.

“Huh?” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck and trying to concentrate on Dean’s face.  The expression on his face falls and he sits down beside Cas at their dining room table, reaching out to tentatively rub the back of his hand.  Cas barely suppresses the urge to jerk away, his whole body oversensitive from his wings.

“You okay, babe?” Dean asks, his brow furrowed as he offers Cas’s hand a gentle squeeze.  “You’ve been all twitchy lately.  Maybe you should take a little break from research, yeah?” Dean taps his fingers against the pages of the book that Cas has been trying to read for the past half hour (key word: _trying_ ) and folds the corner of the current page back before he slams the book closed.  “Come on, take a walk with me.”

“Okay,” Cas agrees, because a walk should be good for the pain.  At least he’ll be able to stretch some of his muscles, and that might take away from the horrible burning and chafing that he feels in his wings.  Dean smiled brightly and pecks his cheek as they stand, his own cheeks turning crimson from the simple action.  Cas smiles, turning his palm up and intertwining their fingers as they walk towards the stairs to leave the Bunker.  “Where are we going?”

There is a small café in town, about two miles down the road from the Bunker, and that is where they route themselves. It takes them just over half an hour to get there, and the sun is just beginning to set beyond the city limits when they enter the dingy little shop.  Castiel plops down in the first chair that he sees, his entire body aching.  Dean raises an eyebrow at him but says nothing, making his way to the counter so that he can place his order.  They’ve visited this place often enough that they know each other’s orders like the back of their hands; Dean always get coffee, black, with a slice or two of cherry pie, and Cas gets lemon tea with whatever the special is (usually some sort of cheese steak or pastrami and ham panini).

Cas fidgets as he waits for Dean to come back with their food, and when Dean returns to their seats he gives Cas a sideways sort of look, frowning.  “You okay, buddy?”

Cas nods silently and pulls his food towards himself, distracting himself from the pain in his back and his wings with food.  It hardly helps, but it’s something to do with his hands, and it keeps him from scratching in front of Dean.  It’s quickly becoming apparent to him that putting off his grooming isn’t going to be an option for much longer, and sooner or later he is going to have to do something about it.  Not ask Dean for help- that would be asking too much of it.  But perhaps he can groom them himself.

“What did I do?” Dean finally asks, after they’ve been eating in silence for a good ten minutes.  Cas stops chewing and looks up, frowning when he sees the distressed look on Dean’s face.  He quickly swallows and wipes his hands off on his pants, and it’s such a human thing for him to do that Dean almost looks surprised.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answers.  Dean huffs, looking away for a moment before he turns back to Cas with a scowl on his face.

“You know I hate all this touchy feely crap, Cas.  But if I did something… something _wrong_ , I want you to tell me.  You’ve been jumpy for more than a week, you zone out and don’t listen to me when I talk, we haven’t…” He frowns, pausing to look around before he leans forward and hisses, “We haven’t had sex in five days!”

Cas’s breath hitches and he feels his heart sink.  Dean thinks that he is upset with him, and now he is upset in turn.  He reaches out almost instinctively to comfort him, squeezing his fingers even when Dean tries to pull away.  Dean regards him almost suspiciously, and Cas lets out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry, Dean.  I’ve just been… tired.  It has nothing to do with you, though.  I’m sorry if my mood has made you feel as if I was upset with you, but it was never my intention.” He flashes Dean a small smile.  “You know I love you, and I would tell you if you did something that angered me.”

Dean blushes scarlet, his fingers curling around Cas’s more tightly.  He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Cas’s lips, stroking his thumb over the side of the angel’s hand.

“Okay.  Thanks,” he whispers, pausing to bite his lips.  “And, uh… Same.”

Cas can’t help but smile, even as he feels a stabbing pain in his back that feels like knives digging into his skin.

The rest of the night ticks by slowly.  They watch a movie with Sam, and Dean makes them all a snack of chocolate caramel popcorn and beer.  Sam and Dean eat most of it, partially because Cas has never been very fond of sweets, but mostly because the angel is more concentrated on sitting still than eating or enjoying the movie.  He doesn’t even follow half of the plot, and when it finally ends he is relieved.  Dean yawns loudly and grabs his wrist, pulling him up from the couch and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Come on, angel.  I need my four hours,” he says, pressing a wet kiss to the side of his mouth that tastes like beer.  Cas kisses back distractedly, not even paying attention when Sam feigns gagging at them.  He follows after Dean almost blindly, scratching at his back so roughly that he is sure there will be marks there.

He waits until Dean’s breathing has leveled out and that his mind is free of nightmares before he slips from their bed, careful not to disturb him where he’s sleeping.  He watches for a moment before he stretches out his arms, pulling his shirt off of his back and tossing it to the ground.  He has to suppress a groan when he rolls his shoulders, his neck cracking when he stretches his aching muscles.  After a few seconds more of stretching he kicks off his pants and pads from the room, making his way to the back door of the bunker and slipping out into the cool night air.  There is a courtyard back here, where the Men of Letters once must have grown vegetables and fruits and flowers.  These days the garden is more dead than alive, though Cas has slowly but surely been working towards restoring it.  He won’t be able to plant anything until later in the spring, but he already has about $200 worth of perennials waiting to be shipped to him from Breck’s.

The good thing about the garden is that it’s very spacious, and there is plenty of open room so that he can stretch out his wings to their fun capacity.  He takes a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes and concentrating.  A moment later his wings manifest themselves; large and almost ominous, three sets of identical wings that span across the entire length of the courtyard, almost fifty feet across.  He lets out a low groan as he stretches them out, the wind ruffling his feathers and making his entire body shiver.

It has been too long since he last had the chance to stretch his wings.  Like, _way_ too long.  He lets out a little gasp as he feels the muscles in his wings stretching, and he gives an experimental flap, hissing when he feels his loose feathers and particles of garbage digging into his own skin.  Tears fill his eyes and he quickly blinks them away, slowly drawing his wing in and around so that he could reach his primaries and primary coverts.  He reaches out and carefully begins to pluck the stray feathers away and straighten the ones that are askew.

It goes well for all of about five minutes.  He manages to clean his primaries, but reaching his secondaries and alulas are harder (he had to contort his entire body just to reach them), and you could just forget about him reaching his marginal and secondary coverts, or his tertiaries.  He groans and reaches out, grabbing fistfuls of his own feathers and trying desperately to get some sort of grooming done.

“Cas?” Dean’s sleep laden voice behind him startles him, and he yelps, accidentally yanking out a handful of white feathers.  Blood smears over his fingers ad he drops the feathers onto the floor, drawing his wings close to his body and turning to look at his human boyfriend.

“Honey, I…,” he stops, swallowing thickly and turning to fully face him.  Dean is wearing only his boxers, squinting at Cas through the darkness and rubbing his eyes. Cas straightens his back and takes a short breath in through his nose. “Hello, Dean.”

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” Dean says softly, stepping forward and coming to stand just in front of Cas.  He reaches out slowly, tentatively, and Cas doesn’t flinch away when Dean brushes his fingers against the top of his wings, right through the downy feathers of the marginal coverts.  He actually finds his wings moving into the touch instinctively, and he swallows thickly, closing his eyes and letting Dean’s voice wash over him.  “What are you doing out here?”

“My wings, they-” he pauses, breath hitching when Dean tightens his grip on his feathers.  Dean quickly pulls away, worry clouding his features at the thought of hurting Cas.  But Cas reaches out and grabs his hand, making him pause.  “I have neglected to groom my wings for quite some time.  Typically I would ask one of my brothers or sisters to groom them for me, but as I am cut off from heaven, that does not appear to be in the cards…,” he swallowed thickly, releasing Dean’s hand and wringing his fingers.  “I was attempting to groom them myself, when you came outside.”

“Oh,” Dean’s eyes are wide, and they roam over Cas’s wings with wonder, picking out all the places where feathers are askew or falling out.  He bites his lips.  “Is this why you’ve been so weird lately?  You’re wings’ve been actin’ up?”

“For about a month,” Castiel admits sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.  “If I don’t groom them regularly, they start collecting dirty and they start to chafe and they can become, ah… Well, they can become infected, if you wait too long.  Usually they just cause a lot of pain until you pay them some attention.”

“Do you want me to help?” Dean whispers, reaching out again to card his fingers through the scapulas.  Cas shivers, eyes going wide.

“You want to help me groom my wings?” He asks.  Dean shrugs.

“I mean, sure.  If it’s causing your pain I’m not going to let you keep hurtin’,” he says, smiling and stepping closer to Cas. Cas bites his lips.

“It’s a very intimate process, Dean.  I don’t want to… To make you uncomfortable,” he pauses, squinting at Dean.  “It’s typically something shared between mates and close family members.”

Dean raises an eyebrow.  “Ain’t that what we are? Mates?”

“I… Yes, but I didn’t want to…” He swallows, unsure of what to say.  Dean takes another step closer and wraps his arms around Cas’s waist, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to his lips.

“Don’t worry, babe.  We’ll go slow, and I promise I won’t rush you into anything.” He presses another kiss to Cas’s lips, then to his cheek, and then his jaw.  Castiel lets out a small huff, relaxing his body and closing his eyes.  A million things ruin through his mind, but mainly he’s just focused on the press of Dean’s lips to his skin, and the fact that his fingers are stroking over Cas’s feathers in slow, solid strokes.  Cas whimpers, his knees buckling, and Dean hauls him closer and leads him towards the back door of the Bunker. 

“We need to go to the library,” Castiel says as they walk inside, and Dean nods, tugging at his wrist and leading him into the spacious room.  He helps Cas ease down onto the couch stomach first, wings spread wide over the back of the couch and onto the floor.  He turns his head, glancing back at Dean nervously.  “Are you ready?”

“Hell yeah. Are you?” Dean asks, and then his fingers are tangled into the back of Cas’s wings, stroking over the sensitive skin of his tertiaries and straightening out his feathers.  Cas gasps, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping at the cushions of the couch.  Dean settles down behind him, between his legs, and starts to carefully pick out little pieces of debris and loose feathers.  The feathers are soft when he touches them, and when he pulls them away his fingers are covered in a slick oil.  He frowns, rubs his fingers together, and brings them up to his nose for an experimental sniff.

“What’s the matter?  Why did you stop?” Cas complains, craning his neck to look back at Dean. 

“What’s this oil stuff?” He asks, then sticks his tongue out and tastes it.  It tastes sour and gross, almost like nail polish remover, and Cas snorts at the disgusted expression on Dean’s face.

“It’s my Uropygial Oil.  I would have told you that it doesn’t taste very good, but I didn’t expect you to try eating it.”

Dean rolls his eyes and nudges Cas, leaning forward to continue stroking through his boyfriend’s wings.  “So what is it for?”

“You rub it into the feathers and it makes them shine.  It helps deflect sunlight and… Um… It helps you attract mates,” Cas answers, blushing slightly.  Dean raises his eyebrows, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“S’that so?” He asks. He straightens out the feathers of the marginal coverts carefully, then slides his slick, oil covered hands over the feathers, grooming them until everyone shines.  Cas makes soft noises beneath him, little moans and gasps that Dean can’t help but be turns on by.  He finds himself leaning forward, his erection pressing up against the curve of Cas’s ass as he picks through the longer, sleeker feathers of Cas’s wings.

It’s when he gets to the alulas that he realizes just how much of an impact he is having on Cas.  The short feathers at the tips of Cas’s wings don’t look much different from the rest of his wings, but they really are.  The sensitive nerve endings there make every touch send a shiver down Cas’s spine, and when Dean strokes over the skin there Cas groans, his hips jerking against the couch.  Dean’s eyes widen and he stills his hand.

“You good?”

“So good,” Cas groans, and it’s obvious from the strain in his voice that this grooming is having more of an effect on him than just cleaner wings.  Dean smirks, reaching up and carding his fingers through the downy material of Cas’s alulas again.  The angel shakes, moaning Dean’s name into the cushions and working his hips against the couch.  Dean presses closer, his hands trailing over the larger feathers of Cas’s wingers and tangling into his tertiaries.  He grinds forward, pressing his cock against the cleft of the angel’s ass.

“You like that, babe?” He breaths against the back of Cas’s neck, nipping at his shoulder and pulling at his feathers.  Cas cries out and arches his back, wings jerking as oil drips down from his glands  and onto Dean’s fingers.

“Need you, Dean.  Please,” he whimpers.

“I want to fuck you,” Dean breathes.  Cas nods, and he shifts so that he can strip himself of his clothing.  His boxers fall to the floor a few moments later, and Dean follows suit, his hard cock slapping against Cas’s plump ass and dripping precum onto his beautiful tan skin.  He takes his cock into his hand and strokes back and forth, dragging the head over the cleft of his ass and letting it catch at his rim.

“We need lube.  I don’t… I think there’s some in the bedroom.  I could go-”

“Just use the oil,” Cas gasps, pushing his ass back against Dean’s cock and grabbing at his own hair.  Dean’s raises an eyebrow, reaching out and rubbing his fingers right over the Uropygial gland.  Oil immediately slicks Dean’s fingers and Cas moans loudly, his own cock throbbing between his legs.

“So the oil doubles as lube?” Dean asks, bringing his fingers down to Cas’s ass and pressing against his rim.  Cas moans, shrugging his shoulders and throwing a sportive smile over his shoulder.

“I told you that it’s used to attract mates,” he gasps, and his laugh turn into a moan as Dean carefully slips his index finger into the angel’s ass, burying knuckle deep and then pulling out again.  Dean works his single finger in and out again and again, pushing deep and probing for that little bundle of nerves that he knows will drive Cas crazy.  He scoops up some more oil and smears it over Cas’s ass, slipping a second finger in easily and pressing deeper.

Cas groans, white knuckling the cushions of the couch and flexing his wings.  Dean reaches out with one hand and tangles his fingers back into the feathers, tugging at the sensitive appendages and eliciting a loud moan from Cas.  Dean would shush him, considering that he doesn’t want to wake Sam up in the middle of the night with their kinky wing oil sex (what the hell even is his life, by the way?) but right now he can’t even bring himself to care.  All he wants is his cock in Cas’s ass, and he wants it now.

He takes his time stretching Cas out, until he can easily take three fingers up his ass.  He pulls his fingers away and takes his cock into his hand, covering it with some oil.  He gasps when it touches his skin, the oil surprisingly warm against his hard erection.  He presses forward, grinding his cock against Cas’s ass and pushing past his rim.  Cas groans into the arm of the couch and lifts his hips, pushing back and helping Dean’s cock push into his hole.

“Shit, I never get used to this,” Dean gasps, draping himself over Cas’s back and grinding his cock forward into the angel’s tight ass.  His fingers tighten around Cas’s fathers and he pulls, and Cas groans, and then they fall into a rhythm of push and pull.  Cas’s ass is flush against his hips, grinding back against his cock as they move together hard and fast.  The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud in the room, and Cas’s desperate whines echo throughout the whole library whenever Dean tugs at his wings.

“Harder, Dean.  Take me.  Make me yours,” he gasps.  Dean groans and closes his eyes, teeth digging into the back of the angel’s shoulder as he pushes forward.  His cock twitches inside of Cas’s ass, growing thicker, and Cas groans lewdly and buries his face into the couch cushions.  Cas whines, wings jerking out and fingers tightening around the fabric of the couch.  Dean lets go of Cas’s wings and moves his hands, lacing their fingers together and fucking faster.

“Oh, fuck, you feel that babe? You feel my cock getting bigger inside of you?” He gasps. 

“It’s already so big,” Castiel chokes, and Dean closes his eyes, balls drawing up as he cums deep inside of the angel’s ass.  Cas tightens around him, moaning as he feels Dean’s release splashing against his insides.

“Oh, Dean, please…,” Cas gasps, moving his ass back and grinding against Dean’s quickly softening cock.  He fucks him through his orgasm, and once his cock is completely spent and he’s gone soft, he pulls out and reaches around to jerk Cas off.  His hands find Cas’s feathers again and he pulls, and then Cas is crying out, his swollen cock twitching and spurting all over the couch.

They come down slowly, Dean’s harsh breaths puffing against Cas’s neck for some time before his breathing finally returns to normal.  He presses a soft kiss to Cas’s neck, stroking his hands back and forth over his sides.

“I don’t know why you kept this from me for so long.  That was fucking _awesome_ ,” he mumbles.  Castiel blushes, shrugging.

“I didn’t think… I thought that you wouldn’t want to help.  Like I said, it’s a very intimate process, and I wasn’t sure if you would be interested in that kind of thing.  As you said, you don’t do all that ‘touchy feely crap’.”

Dean frowns.  “Are you serious?” He whispers.  Cas doesn’t answer, and Dean sighs, resting his head against the back of Cas’s shoulder and nosing at his neck.  “Cas, buddy, I love you.  You’re my best friend and my boyfriend.  I would do anything for you, you know that,” he says, pausing for a moment before he adds.  “Even all this touchy feely crap.”

Cas swallows, silent for a long time before he nods.  “You’re right.  I should have known that.  I guess that I was the one who was nervous about sharing such a personal experience.  I never had to worry about you.”

Dean smiles.  “‘Course not.  I’ll always be there for you, Cas.”

Cas nods, closing his eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.  Being scared is a natural thing, especially when it comes to relationships.  The important thing is that you tell me next time.  I don’t want your wings hurting you.”

Cas nods, his lips twitching into a small smile as he turns to press a chaste kiss to his lips.  “I love you too, by the way.”

It takes a while after that for them to get up and clean up, but eventually they find their ways back to the bedroom, and Cas tucks his freshly cleaned, well-groomed wings back into the ethereal plane just as he and Dean settle down in their bed together.  They sleep soundly, bodies sated and smiles on their faces, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

It’s the sound of Sam shouting in the morning that wakes them, the sound of his confused screaming enough to rouse both Dean and Cas from their deep slumbers.

_“Why the fuck is the entire library covered in feathers?!”_

 

 


End file.
